


No Dress Code: Habit

by GuileandGall



Series: No Dress Code [4]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Breakfast, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Food Fight, Sharing Clothes, Shirtless, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 11:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13213005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: Sometimes getting what you want doesn’t quite go as planned.





	No Dress Code: Habit

Eli quickly became a habit—one she didn’t want to break. The spicy scent of his skin, the feel of his calloused fingertips, the lilt in his voice—Soledad craved it, every bit. Some days the quick texts that told her he was thinking about her were enough. Other days, nothing short of the brush of his lips on her neck could sate her hunger. On days like those, days like that one, the instinctual tilt of her head replied to the feel of a warm hand tracing the pattern of her waistband. Rarely did that unspoken request not receive the answer she aimed for. 

His other hand skated over her shoulders, pulling her flush against his bare chest. The tickle of his breath teased along the column of her neck. Soledad shivered; waited.

“I missed you, love,” he finally whispered, resting his cheek near her ear.

Furia giggled, relaxing back against him. “You were only in the shower like 10 minutes.”

“Longest ten minutes of my life,” he answered without pause.

“You are so full of shit.”

His nose skimmed the length of her neck, making everything, even her breath shiver. “I assure you, it’s the absolute truth.”

Her head tipped a little farther, stretching her long neck to display a prime offering. “Well, I wouldn’t go far.”

Eli’s cheek rested against her neck, warm and smooth, and still a little bit moist. “Plus, I didn’t have anyone to scrub my back,” he whined.

Soledad giggled; she could imagine the kittenish look on his face from the impish tone in his voice. “Pobrecito,” she cooed, rubbing her hands over his, one at her shoulder and the other at her waist. The thumb of his lower hand hooked into the waistband of the pair of boxers she appropriated, inching it a hair lower than where she wore it, which was already low on her hips. “So mistreated. Whatever will you do?”

She could feel the hum in his chest against her spine, and his hips shifted against hers, brushing the backs of her thighs with the fluffy, soft terry cloth. “I could give us both a reason to need another shower.”

When his lips brushed against her neck finally, Soledad’s eyes slipped closed as she sank deeper into his warm embrace. Getting what she sought served as the easiest distraction. The sudden shock of cold on her belly wrenched a scream from her throat and she spun out of his grip.

Eli grinned like a Cheshire cat, the bottle of chocolate syrup still in hand. She gaped at him in surprise. “I can’t—” Then he squeezed it again, scoring a prime shot that hit her shoulder then the stream trailed down to her thigh. “¡Carajo! ¡Creerse la última coca-cola del desierto, chiqueado!” she rattled off in shock at the realization of what he had done—twice. Her gaze tracked to the counter to find ammunition of her own.

He nailed her again as she grabbed the strawberry preserves and a spoon. Despite that, her aim was true—the first fling hit him square in the chest. He hissed at the splatter and trickle of cold jelly that had been meant for the English muffins in the toaster.

“I have no idea what you said, and I’m pretty sure it’s illegal in several states to do that with a Coke, but it sounded hot.” That squeeze missed her completely.

“You are so twisted,” she chuckled at him. Her spoonful landed in his hair.

He narrowed his eyes at her as the red goo plopped onto his shoulder resting for a moment in the dip of his collar bone. “True, but at least we’re bent in some of the same directions, love.”

Breakfast was forgotten in favor of covering each other with sticky sweetness. When Eli’s squeeze sputtered, Soledad finished off the preserves with a sure score. She lunged at him, rubbing the last spoonful of strawberry down his back as her arms wrapped around him, then her hands, tacky with preserves, pushed through his hair spreading around a few other well-placed shots.

His arms circled her waist, keeping her from fleeing, not that she planned an escape. Eli licked her neck. “Guess everything is better with chocolate.” His voice rumbled with a low growl as he took a step, pinning her hips against the counter.

Her hand rubbed up his chest, dragging some of the strawberry up the front of his neck so that when her mouth closed over his Adam’s apple she got a sweeter bite of fruit than usual. Her teeth scraped over the rise of cartilage in his neck and she sucked gently. He diverted her mouth to his, and she could taste the hint of chocolate on his tongue when it pushed passed her lips.

Their kiss broke when he tugged her shirt off, tossing it to the floor, which was almost as sticky as the pair of them. Pulling her close again, their slick bodies stuck together. When they tried to move, the illusion of smoothness shattered. They were stuck to each other. When he pulled away, their skin tugged and eventually separated with a wet tearing sound, like when one pulled apart a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It left them both laughing.

“Good to know,” Eli mused. His wide smile showed off deep dimples, slathered with chocolate as well as the strawberry preserves she had slung at him.

“What’s that, mi pavo real?” Furia asked, stealing a lick from the corner of his mouth.

“Being covered in chocolate is better in theory than reality.”

“I don’t know, maybe if we were both covered in chocolate it might be better.”

Eli’s salacious look brightened again. “We’ll have to try that next time.”

With a glance between them and to the side, she did not want to think about next time. “Maybe it’s time for that shower,” Soledad noted.

“Agreed.” Before she could take a step, Eli stooped and pulled her over his shoulder. “But you’re washing my back,” he warned, as he sauntered back toward the bathroom.

“Yeah well, … you’re washing my hair.” She ripped off his towel, which miraculously managed to stay on during their breakfast battle. She tossed it behind them, leaving it in the kitchen that looked like a sweet war zone. Then she pinched his bare rear. Eli’s retaliation was swift as his jerked at her boxers to deliver a savage tweak of his own.

While he set her down in the tub, he placed himself between her and the shower head, shielding her from the initial burst of cold water. After shimmying out of his boxers, she hung them on a washcloth bar in the shower to keep the mess a little more contained and wrapped her arms around Eli. She giggled and wrinkled her nose at him when he licked chocolate off the tip of it.

“Do I still get breakfast?” He gave her neck a gentle suck as the water warmed.

“I don’t know. You did attack me with the chocolate syrup. It’s going to be tough to make chocolate-chocolate pancakes with no chocolate syrup.”

“Takes better this way anyhow.”

Furia giggled when he nipped at a spot a little lower down her neck as he took another bite. “You know, hot water would work so much better.”

Eli dragged his tongue up her neck and across her cheek, leaving her laughing brightly. “That may be true, love, but it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.” When she looked up at him, he had that look, the one that made it hard to breathe. “And I wouldn’t get to hear that beautiful laugh.”

Her hand gripped the back of his neck and pulled as she rose on her tip toes. As yet, she did not know how to respond to that look, at least not with words.


End file.
